~ why can't people just sit and read a book and be nice to each other? David Baldacci 🎭

Monthly Archives: June 2015

When my father, the adroit political playmaker Tambuyi Peters called me and ordered I be back in Nigeria in a fortnight for a ‘meeting’, I knew he had made yet another power play. After that phone call, my frolics in Dubai seemed commonplace. The video vixen and reality star I had flown out from the U.S to party with us no longer seemed as distracting. It didn’t stop me from getting with them though. That was probably the only highlight of the entire trip. I was more than eager to go home. And then there was Yinks, my virgin sidepiece. We’d started talking again after I decided to take a break from her about ten months ago. I don’t know what it was with girls that give up their virginity to you but they become too clingy. It was all supposed to be harmless fun. When we met four years ago, I got with her in response to a dare from my guys because everyone in our circle knew Yinks was the hottie that did not get with anyone. She was this up and coming editor with a meteoric rise and a heavy resume. Everybody wanted her, no one was winning. So, I took up the challenge. I played my game which had never failed before and I won her. When she told me, she was a virgin; it irked me out a bit to be fair. It was just odd. Who’s still a virgin in this age? She was my rare price though and I collected. After that, probably the euphoria of being the only man to have gone there kept me interested in her, even though I wasn’t a one-woman man and that will never change. Sex with her was unique. She started out clueless and let me dominate, basically teaching her everything. I even introduced her to porn, I think. I’ve got to say, it all turned me on. She was mine to do with as I pleased, and I pleased a lot.

I got bored, as I always do with women so I had to end it with her. She didn’t take it very well. Molly, a friend of hers kept me informed on how she was. Eventually, I grew tired of the women in Lagos. I’d gone round full circle among the socialites. I didn’t fancy movie stars; too public and the female captains of industry were a tad old for me. Abuja was straight dead as far as I was concerned and it was a no go area down south, so I decided to take a vacation abroad, somewhere. I needed the space too because believe it or not, I missed my sidepiece. I don’t know, I might have fallen in love with her, you never know with these things, so I had to get out of Nigeria for a minute to recalibrate. Oshos had suggested Dubai a while back so we decided to hit the UAE.

About a month in, I missed Yinka badly. I mean, she was my Yinks. I had been casually sending her emails all this while and when she finally replied, I was super geeked. Oshos thought I was being a pussy and maybe I was but she had me hooked. We started talking again, catching up, and enjoying each other’s company like before. She had a thing for writing, so I wrote to her by hand. It was a bullshit task because I had to tell her I was at a village in Sudan with my NGO covering kids who were victims of forced migration, and then I had to re-route the letters through there to get to Nigeria or some shit like that just to give the ruse credibility. It was tiring but I wasn’t about to tell this chic I was busy getting it every other night out here in paradise. I did mean it when I wrote to her that I missed us and I wanted us back together, at least I think I did; I don’t know, man. I also had to tell her I got promoted at work and would be back home to resume soon. Truth was my dad had me quit that job ages ago, when I told him I was interested in politics. I never told Yinka that. A fortnight passed and I was on my way back to Nigeria. Oshos stayed behind. He couldn’t get enough of Arabian women. Yinka and I had gotten back together and I was going to go see her in Abuja after I met up with my family. I cussed myself out on how I was looking forward to seeing her again. Maybe I really was a pussy

When my dad introduced Tamara, his plans became clear to me. He was setting me up with one of the most powerful families in Nigeria. The Amadis held key positions in government by none more critical than those held by Tamara’s four older brothers. The patriarch of the family Ahamefula Amadi was a one-time governor in old eastern Nigeria and rubbed shoulders with past heads of state making him one of the richest men in the east. Tamara was his youngest out of 8 children and he played no games with her welfare. Both parents had come to an arrangement I wasn’t privy to but I was going to marry this girl. She wasn’t a stunner. In fact she was nowhere near Yinka but someone surrounded by such power was not to be joked with, and she was a force in her own right; Oxford graduate, worked as a partner in a law firm in the U.K. We talked, after dinner, away from the family of course. We went out, somewhere, I forget the place but it was Italian. She was tired of men intimidated by her status and family. She couldn’t stay in a stable relationship as she usually towered over her partner and this was no fault of hers. She was very warm and fun to talk with, and smart as a whip too. I could get how her pedigree would throw guys off. The class system is dead I know but sometimes it does matter. We vibed though as we shared a lot of things in common, asides a strong family name and I was excited about the prospects here, Tamara and I ended up having what was probably the most controlled sex marathon of my entire life, that girl is one hell of a control freak and For some strange reason her freakyness excited me, well I was until I remembered Yinka.

Throughout the flight to Abuja, I kept playing how all this was going to go over in my head. I wanted to marry Tamara Amadi. I’m pushing thirty and a player is expected to settle down. But I fancied Yinka, a lot. She was that ride or die, the fall back girl. I could be my real self; she believed whatever I told her. When I saw her at the terminal, my heart sank. She’d taken care of herself in my absence and looked even better. I gave her a hug and kissed her. She still felt as good as she did all that time ago. I missed my sidepiece. As we drove back to her place, I made the decision; I was going to keep them both. Yinka would understand why I have to marry Tamara. It’s just business, an investment in the future. And Tamara shuttles between Lagos and London, she’d have no business in Abuja and they would never meet. I just had to break the news gently to Yinks. We had dinner, and she slipped into lingerie, looking all shades of hot. Damn. I have to give myself a pat on the back. When I met her, shorty was bad but now, after me, she’d become evil. We cuddled up on her couch watching TV and then I stroked her hair the way I knew she liked and told her I loved her over and over again, trying more to convince myself than anything. I told her the universe was bent on keeping us and our love apart and that I had to marry someone my dad insists on. I told her it was political and that I was even going to divorce her in a year. I thought that shit would show my commitment. I really didn’t know this girl because what she did next stunned me. She asked me to leave. She’d grown more dependent since our split and I just realized that now. She said something about me causing her unending pain and all that but I was more surprised than hurt really. I figured the best way to get her to calm down was to not put up a fight and just go calmly, at least for now so I left.

I hung around in Abuja for a while after that night. I had a few distractions in the city and I had them visit me. I wasn’t about to be out about town with other women and run into Yinka, or worse her cheer team; Sadia and Molly. I called her, casually at first but I was now pissed off because she refused my calls and didn’t answer my texts. Who did she think she was? I was legit livid. This was my woman. She had no right. I had to cool off so I decided to hit the club scene. Oshos was in town so I knew it was about to be lit. We decided to hit up club 440. It was legendary for rave parties and some amazing company. It was a Friday, I had the squad with me and we were about to fuck Abuja up. Forget Yinka, Tamara, politics, heck even the playmaker Tambuyi Peters. I just wanted to chill out. It was all good for the first couple of hours. We had the bottles and the groupies. The VIP section was off limits so things got freaky quick. As I stepped out, I could hear Shayne Ward. This DJ was a mess. Who listens to shayne ward up in the club? Bruh, I saw Yinka making out with a dude, on the dance floor, to freaking Shayne Ward. I was gone…
As we drove away from 440, all I could do was punch my fists into the dash, softly at first but then harder and harder until Oshos had to smack some sense into the back of my head. It was his Range Rover after all. He had yanked me out the club through the back door when I came back into VIP and started smashing stuff. On our way out, he saw Yinka and immediately coded what was up. I knew he lifted weights but I never knew I was light as fuck. He threw me over his shoulder and made for the back exit. He later says he didn’t realize he had done that but he had to because making a scene would go viral and no politician survives scandal, especially over a woman. Back at the hotel, I was haunted by what I saw. My sidepiece was being fondled by another man who would most likely smash this night. Another man was going to come inside my house, my woman. Heck no! And then it hit me, I was being an asshole. I’ve seen more pussy since I’ve been with Yinks than I did before I met her. I was the one who made her share with other women. Why was I even mad? I had Tamara whom I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave now. This was just one girl, a girl I fancied at best. Why was I tripping? I spent the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep. I kept picturing her with Mr. Hotshot the Fondler in various positions and in different places going at it. He looked like a freak, the fucker, and she was always so eager during sex. He’d do the most and she’d like it. That was it. I couldn’t take it. Sure I was a fuck-up but all those women meant nothing to me. Yinks does. I loved her, I love her. Aww fuck. I do love her but I like to get my dick wet. Who doesn’t? That didn’t give another man the right to claim my woman. Call me chauvinist but I love her and not the others. That should count for something, right?

I made my way back to her place around 5am. I saw his car parked outside and I smashed my fists into the steering wheel. They were bruising and probably grumbling from all the assault they’d endured tonight. He was in her house, in her bed, right now. I was mad, but Oshos’ sentiments came to mind in that instant. If I went in there, I would kill that bastard, go to jail and probably die in there. I had to restrain myself, so I spent the worst two hours of my life waiting outside my girlfriend’s house while another man plowed her. At about 7am, I got out of my car and made for her front door. Fuck it; I guess I was going to jail. I felt tears streaming down my face. I knew this was real, what I feel for Yinka. I’ve never shed a tear for a woman before, not even for Grace in JS 2 who was then ‘the love of my life’ but let Akpan touch her under her desk. As I got to her door, it opened and out comes the guy. He was faceless to me, on purpose because if I made out a face, I would fuck it up. He steered clear, planted his goodbye kiss and took off. Yinka looked like a different woman. She never looked like this after sex with me. I had to cut this shit down now. It took a mix of sincerity and my A game or something in between but I felt that joy of success a few minutes later when she began to cry as I had my head down in her thighs half-feigning wails.

It was even more heart-wrenching than I had anticipated for Chukwudi. Tuvi clearly aware that he was to stay clear of the ensuing drama gave me a hushed peck on the cheek before walking to his car. Chukwudi never took his gaze off me, his eyes smoky with betrayal, his look of utter dejection and horror. I left him at the door and walked back in to sit on the couch. I couldn’t say a word. There was no denying it. I was with another man last night. That man, the one that just walked past him. He had come to tell me that he called off the wedding and challenged his father to either accept me or lose him. He was in love with me and begged me to take him back now with more urgency than I’d even seen before. I was triumphantly pleased. He didn’t think I’d live without him? You’re wrong, mister. Many want what you clearly don’t cherish. Burying his head in my lap as his tears snowballed into wails. Chukwudi was crumpled, shaken to his core. I’d never seen him like this, passionate about me. This was real. His feelings were real. I started to cry too.

Tuvi.

I wanted to see her again. I had to see her again. It’s funny. She looked a mess that day at the pharmacy. I could tell she had a wild night and tried to cover it up with a morning shower and makeup. I empathized with her haven been a victim of wild nights myself and when the pharmacist whom I thought was being slow for no reason told her she was out of aspirin, I offered Ibuprofen as a suggestion. In fact, I blurted it out. There was something cute about her dejection. I just wanted to reach out, give her a hug and tease the mess out of her like an old pal would. She introduced herself visibly checking me out but was a bit self-conscious that she didn’t notice I didn’t give her my name. We had the slight casual banter as we waited on the pharmacist. I could tell she wasn’t fully sober yet but her voice was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard. Damn! I offered to pay for her order just to keep her around. She was running late though so we exchanged numbers. I’m horrible with follow-through so I knew right there and then this was it for me and Ms. Wild Nights even though I promised to call her.

When I got to the gym, I found out that I had her ibuprofen prescription. I laughed. This had to be some kind of cosmic play. Good one, universe. I texted her on the obvious slip-up since I know for people who work, texts are the best way to get their attention at their convenience. That’s how it is at my practice. She texted back and we got talking. I found out she hated working out, loved my music preferences and worked as a publishing editor. I did tell her I was one of the youngest pediatricians in Abuja haven graduated from Howard Medical School and done my residency at Saint Joseph’s in Chicago. The thing that struck me about her was that she could take a joke and run with it. We spent some time goofing around on how inept the pharmacist was and what would have happened if we hadn’t exchanged numbers. She said she would have had to bulk up on my protein shake. I found that hilarious and yet highly believable. We agreed to lunch the next day and she gave me the address to her office. She looked even better then.
It was a cool week with Ms. Wild Nights. I found out she was single and her ex like mine was real shitty. We decided to go out Friday night. I suggested #440, a club a pal of mine manages. She knew the place and it was a go. When I saw her that night, as she got out the cab it was like a ton of bricks dropped on me. I was winded man. I mean, she had a killer body, just the way I like my women but her eyes, her eyes lit up when she saw me and she smiled. I was just gone with that smile. She already had me at offering to bulk up on my shake. This was just overkill. We then got in and had shots, lots of them. I have to admit, she held her liquor very well, even bested me; then we danced, first to House, then EDM. The DJ decided to slow things down with old school Shayne Ward. As we closed in on each other, I noticed she’d become sad but was trying to fight it. Obviously, this song had history for her and all I wanted to do was kiss her. She beat me to it, and I thanked her, with fervor pulling her close to me. We left #440 not long after. She made to get a cab but I had to take her home. I wasn’t going to let her out alone on the streets of Abuja this late.

On the drive, I have to admit, I was anxious. I had become weary of women following Grace’s betrayal. And though I felt a strong connection to this woman, two things troubled me. Did she feel the same? Was this going too fast? I’d tried the casual sex thing back in the States. They were never really connecting encounters and I hated that emptiness, not immediately but after a while. Grace was the last straw. She was the one I invested emotion in and connected with before and after sex. She had other plans though, plans that didn’t involve me. But here I was with a beautiful woman who clearly knew how to have fun and was cool. I was going to let the night just play out. No need to over-analyze. We got to her apartment and she invited me in.

She had a nice ass. I don’t know man; my apprehensions were gone here and now. I was gonna fuck this girl. I just had to be sure she wanted it too so I held her and kissed her neck…

I woke an hour before she did. She was as beautiful now as she was at the club. I got up and looked around her place. It was a pretty decent apartment. She loved reading novels, I could tell as she had books all over the place. Baldacci wasn’t bad. I then saw a picture framed on the wall. She was cuddled up to a man. He looked bougie, probably the son of a politician. I knew this was the ex. Why did she still have his picture up? She probably hadn’t let go. That was never a good sign. I knew I had to leave. This was what it was, a good time for both of us; nothing more. I had to keep it that way. I went back to the room, put on my clothes and went to get a drink of water from the kitchen faucet. I heard movement in the bedroom so I figured she was up. I went to say goodbye. She was staring at the ceiling and was laid back in bed when I walked in. I must have startled her as she reacted oddly on seeing me still around. I kissed her on the head and told her I was heading out. She got out of bed to see me off and as she walked naked to grab a shirt, I once again gazed upon the Amazon goddess I could not possess. It sucked man. At the door, we hugged and by default I promised I’d call her later, a remark I regretted making as soon as the words left my mouth. She muttered something incoherent in reply. She then opened the door and there stood the ex, disheveled and almost irate. As soon as he saw me, his countenance changed. I’d never seen a man go from 100 to 0 that quick. It was pitiful but I still felt he was a bitch for fucking Yinka over. Common sense told me to extricate myself from this situation so I gave her a kiss on the cheek and made for my car without saying a word to the guy. I could hear them go inside and shut the door behind them.

As I approached my car, I ran the events of the past five days in my head. I hadn’t been as happy recently as I had been these past five days. Grace crushed the last fiber of my being when she left me in the States for a woman and since I got back to Abuja, it had been one empty connection after another. But with Yinka, this was different, this was not just sex. I shared great vibes with that girl, even in that short span of time and now the undeserving ex was going to swoop back in? Fuck no; I said to myself as I walked back to her apartment, I want that woman…